


love the passing of time

by weatheredlaw



Series: a thousand falling stars [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Bisexual Character, Coming Out, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Meet the Family, Mild Language, Post-World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 23:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8943166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: Newt feels, in this instance, closer to humans than ever has in his entire life.Tina’s hand in his, their future laid out before them – he counts himself lucky to be one.or: Tina meets the family.





	

**Author's Note:**

> wow wow wow. okay, first off, i have about five requests for this in various places, and i can't list them all here so. if you sent me an request for tina meeting the scamanders, i hope this satisfies your needs. second, i don't know how it GOT SO LONG but like. it did, so. third, i really struggled with names for newt's parents, so i hope they're alright. um otherwise this is the most self-indulgent piece of fluff i've probably ever produced, so.
> 
> title from "this must be the place" (specifically the iron and wine cover).

_i can't tell one from the other_  
_did i find you, or you find me?_

 

* * *

 

The brownstone is quiet when Newt uses his spare key to let himself in, well after midnight. He sets his things down carefully by the door, hanging his coat on the rack and making sure his case is secure before he makes his way toward Tina’s room. As late as it is, anyone else might be expected to be sleeping, but warm light spills out from under her door, and Newt taps on it carefully before he hears her voice, muffled on the other side – “Newt?”

He pushes it open, one hand sliding into the pocket of his slacks, the other resting nervously on the door handle.

It’s always like this, he thinks. He will always feel this way after being parted from her.

As if, in the interim, her affection may have waned.

“ _Newt._ ” She launches herself off the bed and pulls him in, closing the door behind them. Her hands grip the lapels of his vest as she buries her face against his chest, taking deep breaths. One hand snakes up the back of his neck as Newt holds her close, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

“Hello my dear.”

She laughs, pulling back and brushing the tears from her cheeks. It has been a long, long, _long_ four months apart, he realizes, as she reaches to wipe the wetness from his own cheeks with the sleeve of her night shirt.

“You weren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow, Mr. Scamander. Queenie had a surprise planned.”

“My brother finagled an earlier portkey for me from the Brazilian ministry.” He kisses her forehead. “Are you disappointed? Should I ask for my usual room at the Pegasus?”

Tina shakes her head. “She’ll figure it out in the morning, I’m sure.” Carefully, she slides her fingers against the buttons of his vest, undoing them one after the other. “Why don’t you come to bed?”

Newt’s very _bones_ suddenly seem to creak with exhaustion, and sleep and a real rest is quite possibly the most beautiful thing he’s ever imagined. He kisses her firmly. “You do have the most _wonderful_ ideas, Miss Goldstein,” before allowing her to undress him and pull him into bed.

 

* * *

 

Come morning, Queenie is quite aware of Newt’s arrival, as if his solitary coat and case could not herald it enough. There is a grand breakfast spread out on the table, and she and Jacob are bustling about very early in the morning before they need to get to the bakery, making sure everything is perfect. Newt stands in the doorway to the kitchen, watching them with a smile. Without looking up from her skillet of eggs, Queenie says, “Good morning, Mr. Scamander.”

Jacob turns, smile wide and voice booming. “Newt!”

“Hello Jacob.”

“Hey, buddy.” They embrace one another before Jacob points to a chair. “Sit, sit. You’re skinnier than last time,” he says. “No good, bud. No good.” He sets a mug of coffee down in front of him and Newt takes a hearty drink. This is the one place in the world he will allow himself to even touch coffee – it is an American sensibility, and when in Rome…

“How’s work?” he asks.

Queenie waves a hand. “Fine, fine. We’ve got a standing order with Correspondence office and a few others.” She winks at Newt. “You were a big help, sweetie.”

Newt ducks his head. “I’m…I’m glad it worked out.”

Jacob nods. “Sure did. Don’t think I’ve sweat that much since—” Queenie walks by, pushing a croissant into his open mouth as Tina walks into the kitchen. “ _Mmph!_ ”

Queenie says casually, “It’s almost seven, Teen. You never sleep in this late.”

“Minor evening disturbance.” She drops a kiss onto Newt’s cheek as she passes. “Looks good you two.” A loud rattling sound from the sitting room window interrupts the calm, and Tina goes to open it. Two owls swoop in – one belonging to the sisters, a dark brown thing called Archie. The other is a large, rather regal looking bird, and it stops just on the edge of the table and deposits a note in Newt’s plate before flying back out the window.

Tina untangles _The New York Ghost_ from Archie’s leg along with a few other letters and frowns. “That was a MACUSA owl.”

“It looked important,” Jacob says, glancing over Newt’s shoulder. “What is it?”

Newt raises a brow, reaching for the note with its official Ministry seal, his own name written on the front in a familiar scrawl. “It’s from Theseus.”

“Your brother?” Newt nods.

“Emergency Ministry correspondence, that’s a nice perk.”

“Theseus has all the perks,” Newt says, and tears open the envelope.

 

_Newt –_

_Hope I’m not disturbing your return to New York, I know how much you love the place. Can’t put this off much longer, papa’s sick and mum’s worried out of her mind. Have approximately eight-hundred documents that need to be signed and sixty-three revisions of the will that need to be either dismissed or approved. I know how much you detest legalities, but it cannot be put off any longer. There’s also the small matter of the memorial, which pop thinks you should have a say in. I’ll have a portkey set aside for you to use over the next week. If you can’t make it, send a note on to the American Correspondence office letting me know. If you can, do the same. Be nice if you could be here. Been ages since we were all together at the house._

_Theseus_

_P.S. You’re more than welcome to bring your American, if she is agreeable._

 

Queenie puts a hand on Newt’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, honey.”

“It’s quite alright.” He folds the letter and slides it into his vest pocket. “Nothing to fret about.”

“Seemed real urgent on your brother’s end.”

“Everything is a minor emergency with Theseus. If he weren’t able to solve a minor global crisis every fifteen minutes, I think he’d go mad.” He takes another sip of his coffee.

“Do you need to write back?”

Newt shakes his head. “Not just yet.”

Tina leans forward. While it is quite fortunate that only _one_ Goldstein sister can read minds, it is rather unfortunate that Newt seems to have fallen in love with the one who is capable of reading him without that particular gift. “Newt.”

He sighs. “My father is quite ill, and Theseus wants to make sure we make the proper arrangements.”

“Oh.” Tina draws back. “That’s it?”

“Well. There…are a lot of arrangements to be made.” He takes another sip, just as Tina flicks her wand and the letter zips into her outstretched hand. “ _Tina_ —”

“‘You’re more than welcome to _bring your American_.’” Tina looks up. “Is that what you call me? _Your American?_ ”

“Merlin’s beard, _no._ ” Newt clears his throat. “That’s…that’s what Theseus calls you.”

“ _If she’s agreeable._ ”

“Theseus is under the impression that most Americans are _disagreeable_.”

“Can’t say he’s wrong,” Jacob mutters.

Tina shakes her head. “That’s a riot.”

“Well it doesn’t matter, I won’t be going.”

“ _What?_ ”

Newt swallows. “There’s no need. Theseus is quite capable, and I’ll send a letter along and try to talk some sense into mother. She must…she must have a stiff upper lip about these sorts of things.”

“You’re so damn _English_ ,” Jacob mutters. “All you guys were like that when I was overseas, too.” He shakes his head.

“It’s…it’s not insensitive. It’s familial. I’m sure papa—” He stops. “I’m sure my father has told her the same thing.”

Tina passes him the letter. “Well I think you should go.”

“I’ve only just returned, and I can’t go over for anything less than a week, possibly two or even _three_. It’s an entire expedition, you don’t understand—”

“You don’t need to worry about that.” Tina reaches for the plate of eggs, sliding some onto her plate. She flicks her wand, filling her coffee mug to the brim. “Your _American_ is more than agreeable.”

 

* * *

 

_Theseus –_

_Please don’t call Tina ‘my American’ while we’re there._

_Newt_

 

* * *

 

“This is my second time using a portkey,” Tina mutters, her grip growing tighter on Newt’s hand.

“It’s not so bad.”

“I remember that it _was_ ,” she says.

“Well. The first few times are certainly rough.” He sniffs. “I prefer to travel by boat. Train, when possible.”

Tina sighs. “You’re so civilized.”

“Hardly,” Newt murmurs, kissing her temple.

The head of the Department of Magical Transportation is a rather severe looking woman, who gives Newt’s papers and permissions a very thorough inspection before agreeing to let them into one of the portkey booths.

“Remember, it will be very early when we arrive, so the time difference—”

“Newt. Please stop inventing things for me to be worried about.”

“I’m only saying—”

“ _Thirty seconds_ ,” the witch says, and Newt makes a mad grasp for the little teapot they’re using. Tina’s thumb stretches over, brushing his knuckles.

“It’s alright to be nervous,” she says.

“Aren’t you?” She nods. “Well. Well, that’s good then.”

“ _Ten seconds._ ”

Tina stands very close. “It’s going to be alright,” she says, just as the sensation of the portkey jerks just under his navel, and the world goes dark.

It brightens again, starting with an odd pinprick of light that grows larger and larger, until Newt finds himself swaying on his feet, standing in an odd little room. Tina groans at his side, shaking her head.

“Never mind, I take it back. That was still terrible.”

“Very,” Newt mutters, putting a steadying hand on her arm. “Are you alright?”

“No. No I am not.”

“Water for you, dearies.” A little witch comes into the room, pressing two glasses into their hands. “You stay in here as long as you need, not to worry.” She peers at Newt. “Oh! Oh, it’s the young Scamander. Your brother said you’d be arriving soon.”

“Is he here?”

“On his way, love.” She frowns at Tina. “Are you alright, sweetheart? Do you need a bin?”

“I’m—” The woman summons a little pail, hands it to Tina, and rubs her neck as she dry heaves. “There, there.” She takes out her wand, mutters something, and presses it to Tina’s cheek. “Should be feeling right as rain in a moment.”

Tina breathes, setting down the pail and standing up straight. “That’s… _Mercy Lewis_.”

“No, dearie, I’m Olga.”

The curtain covering the little room opens, and someone says, “It’s an American turn of phrase, love.” Theseus puts a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Thank you, for taking care of them.” He grins at Newt. “I’ll take it from here.”

 

* * *

 

“Sorry the trip was so rough. We’ve actually been making changes to the portkey system lately, trying to slow down wizards traveling illegally. Some of us have, ah, more _severe_ reactions than others.” Theseus looks worriedly at Tina’s still-pallid face. “Are you alright, love?”

“Fine,” she manages, keeping a firm grip on Newt’s hand.

“Keep that constitution, girlie. We’re traveling by floo next.” He glances at Newt, laughing at what must be a very tortured expression on his younger brother’s face. “Ha! Don’t pout, Newton, you’ll live.”

“Barely.”

“Newt _hates_ floo travel. Makes him _sneeze._ ”

Tina frowns. “Is that secure right now? We had to close a lot of our floo networks down last month, Madame Picquery said the Ministry might be doing the same.”

“Oh we had to. But I’ve gotten us permission to travel home today. Just a brief window where we’ll have a connection. It opens in about five minutes, and they’ve given us a little less than _ten_ to get in, so we’ll have to be quick about it.” He glances at Tina. “I forgot you’re a security girl. Auror squad, right?”

“Major Investigations Department.”

“ _Splendid._ Good _work_ , Newt.” He clasps him on the shoulder, ushering them through the throngs of people.

Tina squeezes Newt’s hand. “Are you alright?”

“Absolutely wonderful,” Newt says blandly, staring at his brother’s back. He should have had more of the water Olga had given him, or perhaps just stayed in the room for the entirety of this trip. A few people recognize him as they pass, giving him a cordial wave and a quick smile.

“Do you need to check in with your office?” Theseus asks.

Newt shakes his head. “Later. I sent Walt a letter last week.”

“Your office?” Tina asks.

“Newt’s still technically employed by the Ministry,” Theseus says brightly. “Beasts Division. But now that he’s _very_ successful, they let him do as he pleases.”

“Hardly,” Newt mutters. Just before his trip to Brazil he’d had to give a very long, very painful presentation on the mishandling of Occamy eggs and nests, as well as how to spot potential poachers.

Theseus waves a hand. “Come on, it’s just ahead.” He glances at his watch. “The grate opens in about a minute, so be—” In front of them, a fireplace blazes to life before dying down, and a little chalkboard above suddenly reads, _Scamander Estate_. “Ah! They’re early. Tricky bastards.” He turns. “Right. Miss Goldstein, have you traveled by floo before?”

“A few times.”

“So you’re familiar with the process. Make sure when you step _into_ the flames you say _Scamander Estate_ very clearly, or you’ll wind up in a very strange bog surrounded by a lot of unhappy amphibians. An unfortunate family name, but what can one do?” He hands her the bowl of floo powder. “Ladies first?”

“…Alright.” Tina grabs a handful, holding onto her suitcase securely with one hand. “Scamander Estate,” she shouts, before dropping the powder into the fireplace. Bright, _awful_ green flames erupt around her before she disappears.

“You next,” Theseus says. Newt reaches for the power, but his brother pulls the bowl back. “Newt.” Newt looks up. “I’m…I’m very glad you’re here, you know. Really.” His brother’s face has gone rather soft around the edges, and Newt sees how much the last few years have truly affected him. Theseus is hardly thirty-five, and has already fought one war, only to be thrown into another.

Newt gives his brother a nod, grabbing a handful of powder and stepping into the fireplace. The last thing he sees as the flames billow up around him is his brother’s face, split into a wide, happy grin – probably the first in a long, long while.

When the flames die down, Newt finds himself sneezing his way out of the fireplace, hacking up ash and dust as he stumbles into the kitchen. Tina is there, brushing the soot from her coat and looking around the room. She reaches for him, steadying him on his feet as the fireplace bursts to life again behind them, and Theseus steps out, calm and collected, brushing the dust from his palms. He clasps Newt on the back and sighs deeply.

“Little brother? Welcome _home_.”

 

* * *

 

A quick cleaning spell rids them of the dust and soot as they make their way out of the kitchen.

“Pop’s asleep,” Theseus says. “And mum’s outside with the ‘griffs. Spends a lot of her mornings out there.”

“She’s always done that.”

Theseus frowns. “…Considerably _more_ time than usual. Ever since Rose…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter. Rooms are clean, I think Badger got all the horklump guts out of your curtains _finally._ ” Theseus nudges Newt with his elbow. “So, ah, you know. Nothing too embarrassing in your old room.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Newt says loudly, and ushers Tina up the stairs.

“ _Don’t spend too long in there, you know! Mum wants to have breakfast!_ ”

Newt pulls Tina into his old bedroom, the door snapping closed behind them. “Sorry,” he says. “Very sorry. My brother is—”

“Very charming,” Tina says, smiling. “You should have warned me.”

“Merlin’s beard.”

“I’m _teasing_ ,” she murmurs, and takes his hand, pulling him further into the room. “This was yours then?” She glances around. “It’s…plain.”

“I wasn’t very good at decorating. Mother cleaned a lot of the, ah. The drawings out, it looks like.”

“Drawings?”

“Beast anatomy. Dissection notes. Location maps. It’s actually cleaner than I think it ever was when I was a boy. This rug is new, though. Probably covering something unseemly.”

“It’s very endearing.” Tina puts her suitcase on the bed, frowning. “Is it…I mean does your mother mind if we—”

“It’s not a problem,” Newt says. “She’ll just be glad there’s another woman in the house. S’been ages.” He kisses her forehead. “Are you feeling better?”

“Surprisingly, yes.” She turns, pressing herself flush against him. “So. Scamander _estate_ , hmm?”

“More rooms than anyone knows what to do with. But my father had several siblings, so it used to be much more crowded. Born of necessity, really.”

“Very impressive, Mr. Scamander.”

Newt shakes his head. “You won’t think that when you realize we only use five rooms in the place,” he murmurs, and takes her hand to lead her downstairs.

 

* * *

 

Theseus is sat at the table, flipping through the _Daily Prophet_ and chatting away with Badger, the family house-elf. He’d been transferred to the Scamander family by the House-Elf Relocation offices, well before Newt’s own time there, after it had been discovered his former master was a rather notable practitioner of dark arts and experimenting on his staff. Badger had come to them when Newt was three, and been such a solid, sustaining presence in his life, he wasn’t sure what they would eventually do without him.

At six, Newt had tried to set him free, feeling terrible that he was responsible for so much of their day-to-day upkeep. Badger had looked at the boy, turned the elder Scamander’s coat over in his hands and said quietly, “You have quite a soft heart, little Newt. Keep it that way, please. One day, someone will truly need it.”

“Badger, look! I told you, see? He’s brought home a girl.”

From his spot at the kitchen sink, Badger turns, fixing Newt with a wide grin before wiping his hands on his apron. “What a pleasant change of pace,” he says, and snaps his fingers, bringing over a large pot of tea and settling it on the table. “I heard your portkey experience was less than fair.” Badger winks. “Tea will fix you right up.”

Newt pulls out a chair for Tina as a cup and plate fall into place in front of her. “Good to see you, Badge.”

“And you, sir. Pleasant trip to Brazil? You’re _dreadfully_ skinny.”

“Newt’s always been dreadfully skinny. Remember when he was younger? Wouldn’t eat anything but—”

“Blackberries and toast,” Badger mutters, the memory clearly still incredibly frustrating.

“That’s your favorite snack,” Tina muses as Newt settles into the chair next to her.

“ _Wand tips_ ,” Badger snaps. “You’re impossible, little Newt.” He snaps his fingers again and the kitchen thrums with life, food beginning to cook up on the stove. “We’ll have a _proper_ breakfast for you, then. Madame should be in from the stables soon.” He throws a worried glance out the window. “Might have to go and fetch her, though.”

“If she knows Newt’s here, she’ll break down the damn _door_ ,” Theseus mutters.

They don’t have to wait long. Newt’s mother comes into the kitchen from outside rather distracted, toeing off her boots and hanging her coat on the rack by the door. They all sit in silence, watching her hum to herself and perform her little routine, before she turns to the table, takes count of her sons, and says quietly, “ _There_ you are.”

Newt feels something rich and warm bloom in him, the way it always does when his mother smiles his way. It is a favorite feeling, a preferred sensation. He stands, and though he towers over her now, she still manages to somehow bend him to kiss his forehead, and hold him close.

“My boy,” she murmurs. “It’s so _good_ to have you home.” She finally releases him, looking around the kitchen before her gaze falls on Tina. “I know this one,” she says. “It’s Tina, isn’t it?”

Tina stands quickly, rattling the table. “Um, yes. Yes, ma’am.”

“No need for that, love.” She draws her in, and Tina, as tall as Newt is, also manages to be held. “It’s _very_ good to meet you. Newt’s told us a great deal about you.”

Newt ducks his head. “How’re the girls?”

“Oh, they’re fine. Everyone’s fine.” His mother waves a hand and settles into her usual chair as Badger brings her a cup of tea. “Thank you, love. Should we cook breakfast, Badge?”

“Taken care of, ma’am.” Badger snaps his fingers again, and plates flutter to the table, breakfast following suit. “Should I prepare a plate for the master?”

“Please. I’ll bring it to him when we’re done.”

Newt sits down again, offering Tina a plate of toast. “Is dad alright?”

“Tired,” his mother says. “ _Grumpy._ The healer insists he be on bedrest for the next few days. We were just at St. Mungo’s and he had a bit of a…well. A hiccup of sorts on the way.”

“It was a very small heart attack,” Theseus says. “Let’s just call it what it is, mum.”

“I hate the word. His heart’s not _attacking_ him.”

Theseus sighs. “Yes, mother, _it is._ But he’s getting the proper _care_ , is the point of all this. Healer should be out again today to check on him. He’s just angry he’ll probably have to go to the Longbottom’s party and sit the whole time.”

“Well, perhaps we’ll…we’ll stay home.”

Theseus laughs. “And _miss_ Harfang’s party? He wouldn’t let pop hear the end of it.”

“Harfang Longbottom is an old man,” Newt says. “I’m surprised he can hardly stand himself.”

His mother clucks her tongue. “You two. Behave. I’ll leave all you men at home and Tina and I will go if you’re going to be so _sour_ about it.”

Tina looks up. “…What?”

“It’s only a dance, dear. A little social gathering the Longbottoms have every year in the spring. They’re a lovely family, very rosy-cheeked and thoughtful.”

“That would be the _wine_ , mother.” Theseus wipes his mouth on his napkin and stands. “Right. I need to be off. I have to pick up a few books in Diagon Alley and head into the office.”

“Books,” Newt says, looking up. “You’re _reading_ now?”

“ _Funny._ They’re for my secretary, Lola. She has a birthday coming up. Merlin knows she does more for me than any one human should.”

“That’s very thoughtful, Theo.”

“I like to think so.” He drops a kiss on their mother’s cheek and gives Newt a heart clap on the shoulder. “We’ll get a pint tonight or tomorrow, Newton.”

“Sure.”

“Tina.” Theseus nods to her before checking his watch. “Hope the grate’s open,” he mutters, before grabbing a handful of floo powder from the bowl on the mantle and stepping inside. “ _Department of Magical Transportation!_ ” Green fire engulfs him.

“I hate floo,” Newt’s mother says.

From behind her napkin, Newt hears Tina muffle a laugh.

 

* * *

 

His father is asleep, still, when Newt finally makes his way up the stairs on his own to check. The room is separate from his parents’ usual bedroom, an odd extra space they’d never used. It’s all probably on his father’s insistence, who had always hated when healers came ‘round the house to check on Newt or his brother when they were sick. Theseus had had terrible asthma as a boy, and a nurse from St. Mungo’s practically _lived_ with them until he was eight.

From the end of the hall, Newt’s mother sighs. “Is he still asleep?” Newt nods, and she snaps her fingers, sending the plate downstairs. “Perhaps at lunch.”

“Is he eating?”

“Not enough. He’ll be better in a few days, they told me. I wish Theseus was here more often, though. It might…might _calm_ him. He worries about you two. It’s good you’re both here.”

“I don’t mean to worry anyone.”

“No, I know.” His mother loops her arm through his. “But it’s the nature of a father, love. You’ll understand, when you have your own brood.” She smiles. “I like Tina,” she says, carefully.

“I’m glad.”

“She’s very bright. And an auror, you said?” Newt nods. “How _clever._ I’m sure your father will love her.” She glances at her watch. “I need to go to market with Badge. If you and your brother are _both_ going to be staying, we’ll need to fill the pantry.” She nudges him with her elbow. “You’re all _bones_ , Newt.”

“I hadn’t heard,” he says, and she laughs.

It’s the first time in a while he’s heard it and, he suspects, the first time in a while she’s done it.

Tina is in the kitchen talking with Badger and helping him do dishes.

“A very nice young woman,” the house-elf says as Newt and his mother enter.

Newt’s mother nods. “Indeed. We need to run some errands, Badge.”

“Of course, ma’am.” He steps off his little stool in front of the sink. “Don’t worry anymore about those, love.” He snaps his fingers and the rest of the dishes begin to finish themselves. “I only like to do them myself when there’s a decent companion to do them _with_ ,” he says, and gives her a wink.

Eventually, they are left in the kitchen alone, and Newt leans against the counter as Tina dries the last few plates.

“How are you?” he asks, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Better. Endeared, honestly.” She tips against him. “Your family is very sweet, Newt.”

“They have their moments.”

“Well, it’s never easy.” She wipes her hand on a dish towel. “You _have_ one, is the point I’m trying to make.” The words hang there, an odd point of contention between the two of them. Newt never knows what to say when she brings this up, or how to soften the blow. He can’t bring her parents back, or find any good enough reason why she has none.

All he can do here is take her hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing her knuckles.

“Sorry,” she mutters. “That was stupid.”

“It’s not.”

Tina shakes her head. “No, this is…this is all wonderful. Your mother and this house…” She turns, mimicking his pose, fingers tangling together at their sides. “I’m very grateful to be here.”

“I’m very grateful to have you.” Newt kisses her temple and, feeling rather bold, murmurs, “Would you care to go to bed with me, Ms. Goldstein?”

She turns, raises a brow. “In the middle of the afternoon?” Newt shrugs. “Mr. Scamander, how _scandalous._ ”

“We’re _awfully_ alone,” he tries to argue, but Tina is already pulling him out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

In his room, she bolts the door and draws her hands up his neck, nails gently scraping his scalp. “I think it’s a wonderful idea,” she says, before undoing the buttons of his shirt and pulling him into bed.

 

* * *

 

Tina falls fast asleep, after. Newt lays in the warm comfort of her presence for a while, flush against her back. He kisses her neck, counts the smattering of freckles there, and traces the curve of her arm. She is completely out, though any other night or afternoon she might tease him for observing her, cataloging her like one of his creatures.

 _Hardly_ , he’d argue, though he has learned her like learns so many other things. Precisely where she is sensitive, or where to kiss her to make her laugh. What words she prefers to hear when they make love, and how long it takes for her to spill over that edge, trembling in his arms.

Eventually, Newt shifts on the other side of the bed and digs around for his clothes, pulling on trousers and a sweater before slipping out of the room. He fully intends to go downstairs and make few cups of tea – but there’s a brittle, aching hacking sound coming from the end of the hall, and Newt follows.

His father is sitting up in bed, struggling for a moment to breathe before he finally manages to inhale deeply and calm himself. He looks up from his spell, eyes squinting in the dark before he says quietly, “Newt?”

“Hello, papa.”

His father wheezes a little laugh and leans back against his pillows, patting the edge of the bed. “My boy.” Newt obeys, settling at his father’s side and reaching for the pitcher and glass to pour him water. “Thank you,” he manages, taking a long drink. “Much better. Hope I didn’t disturb the house.”

“Everyone’s out. Theseus went back to work, mum and Badge are shopping.”

“And you?”

Newt ducks his head. “Resting.”

“Hmph. Good. Shouldn’t spend so much time away, Newt. Going to send that American friend of yours the wrong message.”

Newt smiles. “I think she understands.”

“Does she? Well, hopefully you manage to _stay_ so lucky.”

“She’s here,” Newt says. “She’s asleep. The portkey was rough, but—”

His father holds up a hand. “You brought her _here?_ ” Newt nods. “Merlin’s beard, boy. You’re quite serious about this, aren’t you?”

“…Yes.”

“Well. I’ll see her at dinner, I suspect.”

Downstairs, the doorbell rings.

His father sighs. “That’ll be the healer.”

“Healer’s a _good_ thing, papa.”

His father huffs. “Been a long time since I heard my youngest call me _papa_ ,” he mutters.

Newt stands, bending down to kiss the top of his father’s head. “It’s been some time since my father made me feel like his youngest. I’ll go fetch them.”

 

* * *

 

“I’ve made us reservations at the Winnipeg,” Theseus announces, stepping out of the fireplace. “This family is going out.”

“Theseus, darling, that’s an awful lot of work.”

“I’ve also arranged a _very_ beautiful Ministry car to give us a lift,” he says coolly, folding his arms over his chest. “So no more fretting, mother.”

Tina frowns. “Isn’t Winnipeg a city in Canada?”

“It’s also this family’s favorite restaurant, just outside town. Classic wizarding dining establishment, and a site of many Scamander celebrations.”

Newt rests his chin in his hand. “We’re not celebrating, Theseus.”

“Sure we are! You’re here, Tina’s here, pop’s feeling better.” Theseus shrugs. “I figured why the devil not?”

Their mother sighs. “Well, it would be nice to get out.”

“ _Exactly._ You go tell pop. Newt, take off that ugly sweater.”

“I bought him that,” Tina says dryly.

Theseus gives her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “And it was a _marvelous_ choice. Come on then. Both of you.”

They do all manage to pile into the Ministry car, knees knocking in the backseat as Theseus makes room for their father up front.

“Angus, darling, are you sure you’re up to this?”

“Renda, _please._ ”

Newt’s mother sighs. “If you insist, darling.” She glances at Newt and Tina, pressed tight against one another in the seat opposite her. “Muggle contraptions. You can’t enchant this to be any larger?”

“Working on that one, mother. It’s rather complicated.” Theseus piles in after and says, “The Winnipeg, Laurie.”

“Yes, sir.”

Theseus has reserved their usual table, with one spare setting as they all take their seats. Tina leans over and murmurs, “This is _fancy_ , Newt. You said it was casual.”

“It is casual.”

Tina sighs. “For you, maybe.”

“ _You_ ,” he says, “look very beautiful.” He kisses her cheek. “Please don’t worry.”

“Wine, madam?” The waiter comes by, gesturing toward Tina’s glass.

“Um, sure. I mean. Yes. Please.” She pinches the bridge of her nose.

“It’s only a restaurant,” Newt says. “There is nothing—”

From across the room, a familiar dark haired figure enters the Winnipeg, arm-in-arm with a tall, sourly complexioned man. In the way she always did, Newt feels the air taken from his lungs, and his gaze suddenly stuck. She doesn’t see him, not right away, but Leta does eventually angle herself toward him, eyes going wide for a moment before she looks away.

Newt swallows.

“Hey.” Tina puts a hand on his arm. “What’s—” She follows his gaze, eyes flitting toward Leta Lestrange, then back to Newt. “Oh.”

Leta finally disappears from view, escorted into one of the private rooms with her husband and company, and Newt looks down at his plate. Tina’s hand rests on the table now, fiddling with her fork. Newt reaches to cover it with his own, but she pulls away.

 

* * *

 

Newt tries to touch her, after they’ve gone to bed, but she is stiff against him, unmoving and unrelenting in her anger.

“Tina…”

“Why do you let her do that?”

Newt swallows. “I don’t _let_ —”

“But you do.” She’s still facing away from him, but her frustration is palpable. “She isn’t…she shouldn’t have that _strength_ , Newt. You’re beyond that now.” Tina rolls over to face him. “But if you aren’t…if you still—”

“I don’t.”

Tina sighs, finally reaching out and brushing the hair from his forehead. “You promise.”

Newt moves closer. “I swear.”

Tina shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I just…I shouldn’t doubt you, I know I shouldn’t—”

“I made the mistake, Tina. Please—”

She puts a hand over his chest, giving it a soft tap. “I know she’ll always…always be here. I know there’ll always be a part of her there. I can’t say there aren’t any _here_ , either,” she murmurs, taking his hand and pressing it over her heart.

“That you would take my heart, with all its imperfections—”

Tina snorts. “ _Newt._ ”

“Too much?”

“No,” she murmurs, and curls closer to him. “Just enough.”

 

* * *

 

Newt is alone when he wakes, but it’s rather late. He realizes it’s the first long rest he’s had in a while, and his body aches with a sort of pleasant exhaustion as he dresses and runs a hand through his hair. He tugs on a sweater and laces his boots before stepping into the hall.

“Ah, Newt.”

Newt turns, and finds his father standing stubbornly outside his little room, cane in one hand, the other steadying himself against the wall.

“You’re walking,” Newt says.

“Yes, but I need some help.” He sniffs. “Your mother took Tina out to meet the herd, and I want to…I want to _walk_ down the hill to see them.”

“That’s a noble goal,” Newt says. He reaches his father and puts a hand on his arm. “Can you make it down the stairs?”

Angus clears his throat. “Actually…I thought you might…might help me Apparate downstairs. Just to save a bit of time, of course.” He clears his throat again, and Newt nods.

“Of course.”

They Apparate down the stairs and, at his father's brief insistence, through the kitchen and to the back door. Here, his father shakes Newt off and straightens.

“I can take it from here, my boy.” He glances over. “But…an escort would be lovely.”

Newt bows his head. “I would be honored, sir.”

Slowly, but surely, they make their way down the slope of the hill and toward the stables. Newt’s mother has bred hippogriffs longer than Newt’s been alive, and the stables here were built specifically for her after Angus Scamander inherited the estate in his father’s will.

Newt spots Tina and his mother making a fuss over one of the foals, tossing little scraps into the air and watching it leap to catch them.

His father waves. “Hello, my dear!”

Renda turns, narrowing her eyes as she realizes what’s happening. “Angus! Angus, darling, you’re out of bed.”

“I am.” He reaches her and kisses her cheek.

“Did you get down the stairs on your own?”

“Ah, yes. Yes, didn’t I, Newt?”

Newt nods. “He was very brave.”

Renda sighs. “Oh, Angus.” She shoos the baby hippogriff inside with its mother. “Come along, then. Theseus is coming by for breakfast again before he heads to work.” She loops her arm through her husband’s and they begin the trek up the hill.

Newt turns to Tina, who is still watching the baby hippogriff roll in the hay. “Good morning.”

She turns to him and smiles. “Good morning.” She kisses him quick and takes his hand. “I tried to get you up with me this morning, but there was no waking you. You insisted you’d only be a few more minutes.”

“And how long ago was that?”

“Over an hour.”

Newt laughs, and they slowly make their own way back.

Theseus is already seated at the kitchen, complaining loudly to Badger about _biased reporting_ and _mishandled funds_ and _that old codger Paternoster._

“Absolutely ridiculous,” he mutters.

Badger sighs. “I understand, sir.”

“And I’m so _glad_ you do.” He looks up as they all enter, and grins. “Aren’t the four of you precious?”

Their mother sighs. “Theo, darling, do you have be quite so angry this early in the morning?”

“I have a monopoly on morning misery, mother.” He points to _The Daily Prophet._ “Have you heard of this absurdity, father?”

“The world is populated with absurdities, Theseus. Which _one?_ ”

“Oh some _nonsense_ about destroying war records. I went today to see about my funding request from the Records department and _Paternoster_ threw the damn _Prophet_ in my face and told me to shove off.”

Newt spies the headline – **_MINISTRY TO DISAVOW WAR RECORDS, “MUGGLE WAR WAS NEVER OUR FIGHT.”_**

Angus sputters. “Well—well we’ll just have to go private, then. Go to St. Mungo’s directly. Damn the Ministry.”

Tina frowns. “Your Ministry isn’t recognizing veterans?”

“We were never supposed to get involved,” Theseus says. “But half of it was necessary. If Newt hadn’t been there, we would have had dragon attacks all over.”

“ _Theseus_ was a bloody hero,” their father says, swelling with pride. “My boys did their part. And so did Renda’s sister.” Newt glances over at his mother, who has gone very quiet, and very still. “I’ll be _damned_ if we don’t honor the witches and wizards who _gave their lives_ to protect the good of the entire continent. The whole bloody—” He starts to wheeze, hacking terribly into his hand.

“Angus, darling, you need to calm down.”

“I _am calm_ ,” he manages, shaking hands reaching for his tea. He points to Theseus. “On Saturday. We’ll speak to the Longbottoms. And the Potters. They’ve all got ones who served. The Potters lost a grandson.”

“Two,” Theseus says quietly. “I was there when…when Eli died.” He sniffs. “Right. I need to go.”

“Theo you haven’t eaten.”

“I’m alright mother.” He goes to kiss the top of her head. “Had a spot of tea with Badger.”

Renda sighs. “Well, alright.” She watches as he’s engulfed by the flames of the fireplace and sighs.

“He’s alright, love.” Angus reaches toward her and squeezes her hand. “You worry too much. And when you worry—”

“You suffer twice,” she murmurs.

Tina casts a sidelong glance at Newt, smiling behind her tea cup. He feels his cheeks flush as he ducks his head and busies himself with his berries and toast.

After breakfast, Newt’s mother turns to Tina and smiles. “Would you like to go into town with me? I want to pick up a few things, and I really think you’d love to see the place.”

“Oh. Oh, of course.” She looks at all of them. “This is…I mean the town isn’t…do No-Maj’s live here?” Newt’s parents look confused and she shakes her head. “Sorry. Muggles. Do Muggles live here?”

“A few, but they’ve lived here for generations. They’re quite aware that this is largely a _magical_ hamlet.”

“Marcus Crawley’s son went to _Hogwarts_ last year,” Angus says. “He was quite pleased. Got sorted into Hufflepuff, Newt.”

Renda smiles. “We’re quite safe here. The Statute of Secrecy is always nice in theory, but does us little good in practice.” She pats Tina’s hand. “You’ll enjoy it, dear.”

Angus nods. “Newt, I’d like to do a spot of reading today. Join me in the library?”

“I have notes to transcribe,” Newt says, standing and helping his father to his feet. “I’d be happy to.”

 

* * *

 

When Newt was a boy, he would often sit at his father’s feet in the library, thumbing through anatomy books that had been given to him for Christmas or birthdays, or on a sudden whim. He’d stare at little creatures in jars with holes in the top, or read random facts aloud to his father.

It is much the same when they settle in the library – his father in his usual chair, and Newt with his notes and books spread on the floor.

Newt, though, is distracted. There has been, ever since Tina declared her intention to join him, a thought forming at the back of his mind. How serendipitous that she should be with him, here, before his father became too ill to enjoy these sorts of things? Before Theseus became too embroiled in another conflict to even be around for ten minutes at breakfast?

The world has always had a strange sense of time, Newt thinks. Perhaps it’s been trying to tell him something all along.

“Papa.”

“Hmm?”

“I…have a question.”

His father looks over the edge of his book, glasses sliding down his nose. “What is it?”

Newt sits up, and feels very much like a boy this way, sitting cross-legged at his father’s feet, making a request. “I…You like Tina, don’t you?”

“Oh, very much. She’s a brilliant catch, Newt.”

“Right, right.” He looks down, but his father clears his throat. “Sorry. Ah. Well, listen. I…I love Tina.”

“I should certainly hope so.”

“I love Tina _very_ much.” He looks right at this father, who sets his book down in his lap now, his full attention on his youngest son. “And I would like to ask her to marry me.”

The words seem to hang between them for a moment, before Angus sets the book to the side and folds his hands in his lap. “Well now.”

“She has no father to ask permission. Her sister is…that’s all the family she has.” Newt decides he better stand for this part, looking down at his father. “I would like nana’s ring. You always said it…well you promised it was for this. And I suppose I never really thought of myself as…as the marrying _type._ But Tina…”

“She _is_ special.”

Newt nods. “She is.”

His father sighs. “Well. I’ll have to ask your mother, first. It was _her_ mother’s ring.”

“Of course.”

His father looks up at him before reaching for his book. “I’m very proud of you, Newt. You know that, don’t you?”

“I do, sir.”

“Good. I’ll discuss this with your mother when she returns.”

 

* * *

 

“Well, darling, the ring was…well we _intended_ for it to be for Theseus.”

In the library again that evening, Newt _balks._ “For _Theseus?_ ”

“Well yes. He’s the eldest, we always assumed that he would—”

“Theseus is completely alone.”

“Well not _completely._ He goes to Flourish and Blotts a _lot_ , and there’s a very clever witch who works there. I think he’s just being shy about it—”

Newt _laughs._ “Theseus is not _shy._ He is shy about _nothing_ in his life.”

“Don’t speak to your mother that way.”

Newt breathes. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

His mother sighs. “You understand though, Newt. Don’t you?”

“Not particularly.”

“Well. We’re in a very odd time, darling. Perhaps a wedding isn’t…isn’t _prudent._ ”

“I’m not asking for extravagance. I’m asking for a ring to give to the woman I love.”

Angus stiffens. “The ring is for Theseus. Your mother’s made up her mind, it’s hers to give.”

Newt inhales deeply, closes his eyes and says, “ _I understand._ ”

His mother reaches for his hand. “I’m so glad you do, darling. There’ll be plenty of time to get married when this Grindelwald business is settled. I’m sure it won’t be long.”

 

* * *

 

Newt maintains a rather bitter silence in the days that follow. It is, perhaps, his gift of being the youngest son, the ability to hold a silent, painless grudge until he gives it up. His mother and father certainly notice, but there’s a minor health crisis and they spend their Friday evening at St. Mungo’s, getting a full work-up of tests and heals while Newt and Tina spend the evening at the house alone, walking the gardens and planning their return.

“Didn’t you come here to sign some papers?”

“Theseus went to Diagon Alley this morning. He’s bringing them over tonight when he comes to stay.”

Tina nods. They settle on a little bench in the middle of the peony bushes. “Your mother told me about Rose.” Newt stiffens. “About what happened. Why your father’s so passionate about the war memorial.”

Newt looks out across the garden. “They both begged her to stay here. Theseus being gone was too much already, and then they asked me to take care of the dragons. Mother worried every day. But Aunt Rose couldn’t…she wasn’t the type to sit still why other people got hurt.” He turns to her. “She lived here a lot when I was a boy. Off and on. Mother called her a series of poor choices on legs. She never married, never wanted children. She wanted a life that she wasn’t born into.”

“She wanted adventure.”

“Yes.” He smiles. “She encouraged me to take the commission from Obscurus. She said it would be a _grand_ adventure.” Newt looks at their hands. “She couldn’t wait to read the book.” He closes his eyes. “Aunt Rose died just before the fighting ended. She was taking care of wounded Muggles. There was an explosion.”

Tina leans against him. “Your mother misses her.”

“Very much,” Newt agrees. He opens his eyes and looks up at the stars.

From the kitchen door, someone whistles, and Newt turns to see Theseus leaning against the doorframe, grinning at them. “Look at you two.”

Newt smiles, and they head into the house. “Did you stop at St. Mungo’s?”

“I did. Pop’s fine, they’ll come home in the morning.” He shakes a thick handful of papers. “We have work to do, little brother.”

Tina kisses Newt’s cheek. “I’ll leave you to it. I need to write to Queenie.”

“Sure.” Newt holds onto her hand as she goes, fingers finally slipping from his grasp and she heads up the stairs. He watches after her for a moment before Theseus clears his throat. “Sorry.”

“You are _really_ hung up on that one.” He settles at the table, spreading out the documents and getting a quill and some ink. “Right. We have some signing to do, so buckle down.”

Newt groans. “I despise legalities.”

“Yes, I still remember the MACUSA letter that was delivered to me after your little _case_ mishap.”

“That was an _accident._ ”

“Accident, breach of the Statute of Secrecy.” Theseus shrugs. “Same thing, right?”

Newt sighs. “Alright, let’s just get this over with.”

They sit at the table for over an hour, trading barbs and quills, signing off on things and making quick calculations. Where money goes and what it’s used for is important, and Newt’s father has set them up well enough when he passes so that their mother is cared for and the boys receive a decent sum. He’s donated a great deal to St. Mungo’s.

“They’re going to name a bloody wing after him,” Theseus mutters, but he seems a little proud as he signs off on the last document and passes it to Newt. “Well. That was invigorating. You want a drink?”

“Please.” Newt folds the papers over and takes the glass of whiskey from his brother. He takes a sip and says, “I asked for the ring, yesterday.”

Theseus chokes a little, whiskey dribbling down his chin. “Merlin’s _beard_ , Newt. You could have waited a minute for that.”

“Sorry.”

“Well, what’d they say?”

Newt raises his glass again and drains it. “That it was for you.”

“Oh bloody hell.” Theseus finishes his own and refills their glasses. “You’re not serious.”

“I’m very serious. Mother also said that it was poor timing for a wedding.”

“What, she wants you to wait until—”

“Yes.”

Theseus sighs. “Of course she does. Don’t know why they’re holding out for me, though.”

Newt shrugs. “She thinks you’re hiding someone from her. Says there’s a witch at Flourish and Blotts you may be keen on.” Beside him, Theseus freezes, staring into his glass. “…Are you?”

His brother drains his glass in one go. “Finish yours,” he says. Newt complies and finds it full again. “Right. So I suppose…well I was going to wait a bit, you know, but I mean now’s as good a time as any. And you’re…you’re the perfect one to say this to, you know.” Theseus glances at him. “I’m…I am keen on someone.”

Newt raises a brow. “It’s not your secretary, is it?”

“Good heavens, _no._ Lola is _married_ Newt.” Theseus sighs. “Look. There’s…there is someone at Flourish and Blotts. I went in last year to buy a few copies of your books, and someone helped me. Said three copies was quite a lot, that Mr. Scamander would surely be pleased. I told him I _was_ Mr. Scamander, but the other one. The less published one. We had a good laugh, made fun of your author photo – it’s _hilarious_ , by the way, Newt, you look like a _sheep_ – and…went to dinner together.”

“Who is she, then?”

“He,” Theseus corrects, and finally looks at Newt. “His name is Adrian. He’s very clever, and quite handsome, if I say so myself.” He straightens a bit, looking pleased. “I haven’t told mum and dad yet because…well I always _knew_ the ring was for me, but I can’t really say I’m interested in marrying anyone at all right now. And we obviously don’t have all the…the _rules_ about it like the Muggles do. But papa’s very traditional, you know. Mum, too. I just didn’t want to disrupt anything, cause any sort of trouble.”

“Theseus.” Newt leans forward. “You’re in love with someone. How is that any trouble at all?”

“You know precisely why it is.” He waves a hand. “And besides, I could become quite keen on a woman again soon. There’s no promise that Adrian and I will be together forever. I mean I _am_ quite fond of him, but you know how these things are.” Theseus takes a drink. “Anyway. I just…wanted to tell someone. You were the perfect one to tell.”

Newt smiles. “I appreciate your doing so.”

Theseus laughs. “Well, look. I’ll…I’ll tell them to give it to you. I can’t promise they will, but…they should. And you should get married whenever you damn well please, honestly. The world’s a bloody mess and we could all be dead tomorrow. Why not die happy?”

 

* * *

 

Newt’s parents return the next morning, and Newt embraces them warmly, without really saying much – but there is an understanding between them, and they all eat breakfast together and talk about the Longbottom’s party.

“I’ll have to clean up my dress robes,” Angus mutters.

“If they fit,” Theseus teases, and earns himself a sharp _jab_ with his father’s cane. “Kidding, _kidding!_ ”

Tina furrows her brow. “I don’t _have_ anything.”

“You can wear something of Rose’s,” Renda says quietly. “She left so much here, and she had so many beautiful dresses. She’d have given it to you if she were…if she were _here_.”

Theseus nods. “She spoiled us, it was always a good time.” He glances at his watch. “You know, Newt, mum usually feeds the ‘griffs right about now. You and Tina should do it.”

“Oh, no, I’ll—”

“We should,” Newt says, grabbing Tina’s hand and pulling her from her chair. “You rest, mum.” Newt kisses her cheek. “You had a long day yesterday.”

“Well, I suppose—”

“Wonderful! You two stay out there, and _we’ll_ stay in here.” Theseus ushers them to the door and shuts it behind them, leaving the two outside under the mid-morning sun.

“That was suspicious,” Tina says.

“He’s doing something.” Newt squeezes her hand. “Also Theseus is always a bit suspicious.”

“Sounds a lot like another Scamander I know.”

“Runs in the family,” Newt says, and they walk together down to the stables.

 

* * *

 

That evening, Newt’s mother takes Tina to Rose’s old room, and lets her pick out a dress. Newt watches them murmur to one another from the doorway, so endeared with his family’s love for Tina that he can’t quite find that same frustration he had just a day or so before.

“Newt?” He turns, and his father is standing at the end of the hall, waving him down. “Come here.”

Newt goes, and they head into his father’s old study, long in disuse, but still as imposing and dark as Newt remembers.

His father reaching into a drawer and pulls out a small, blue velvet box. “Here.” Newt stares at it. “Well _go on_ , boy. Take it.”

“Oh. Um. Yes. Alright.”

Angus sighs. “Your brother told us not to waste our time waiting. Old age makes you…cautious, Newt. In ways you don’t expect. Theseus said he had a good reason for everything, that he’d tell us in time. I trust him, and so, I trust you.” He puts a hand over the box in Newt’s hand. “You should marry her, and you should have any sort of wedding you’d like. This world is…scary, Newt. It’s unsure and unstable. We don’t what tomorrow will be like, so we must…we must take the appropriate risks and hope for the best.

“To be in love, and to be married…that is a great risk. One that I know you’re brave enough to take.”

“…Papa.”

“Please ask her. I understand she has very little family, so. We would be happy and _proud_ to let her share in ours.” He reaches forward and pulls Newt to him, kissing his forehead. “You are incredibly lucky to have found such happiness, Newt. Don’t squander it.”

Newt nods, reaching up to brush the tears from his face as his father does the same. “Thank you.”

“Thank your mother, please. And…perhaps try to get married soon. I really _do_ think it would cheer everyone up.”

Newt nods, and they head back into the hall together. Tina and his mother are standing outside Newt’s room, looking over the dress Tina’s chosen and making a few adjustments with their wands.

“…sure that I can wear this?”

“Oh, of course, dear. Rose would have just loved you, honestly. And she’d have given you a dozen dresses to wear if she could.” Renda turns. “ _Neither_ of you are ready. _I’m_ not ready,” she says and gives Tina a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’ll look lovely, darling.” As she moves past, Newt catches her arm. They stand there, truly looking at one another for the first time in a long while.

Newt leans forward and puts his arms around his mother. “ _Thank you_ ,” he murmurs.

“Well. You just…you keep hold of all this.”

“I will.”

His mother nods and heads down the hall with his father to change.

Tina says quietly, “Is everything alright?”

“It’s perfect,” Newt says. “Do you need any help putting that on, Miss Goldstein?”

“I’m sure there are a few buttons I can’t quite reach, Mr. Scamander.”

“Ah, so a proper investigation then.”

“Certainly.”

From the bottom of the stairs, Theseus makes a loud _gagging_ noise. “ _Disgusting_ , both of you,” he says, before grinning and heading into the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

Each year the Longbottom’s party gets a bit more extravagant and a bit larger. Newt doesn’t remember there being this many waiters at the last one, but Theseus reminds him that it _was_ almost six years since his last.

“Take it easy, little brother. Oh, look, _champagne._ ” He hands Newt and Tina a glass each and winks. “There’s going to be _fireworks_ , I heard.”

Newt sighs. “Thank you, Theseus.” He offers Tina his arm and she accepts. “Well. Have you enjoyed yourself?”

Tina sighs. “It’s…been a little overwhelming, honestly. But in the best way,” she adds. “Your house, your family.” She shakes her head. “I feel so lucky.”

They make their way into the garden, and Newt turns to her. “When I came to New York, you took me in.”

“I tried to arrest you.”

“And it was very romantic, in retrospect, don’t you think?”

Tina rolls her eyes. “Only you, Newt.”

“My _point_ is. You let me become a part of your family. You let Jacob become your family as well.”

She nods. “Mmhm. And from what a certain wizard’s _mother_ told me, I have a lawyer I’ve never met to thank for that.”

Newt balks. “ _What?_ ”

“Why didn’t you just _tell me_ you’d hired your family attorney to take Jacob and Queenie’s case?”

“Oh. Well…well it was before you and I were…and I didn’t want to—”  She cuts him off with a kiss.

“Newt. I’m an auror. I had my suspicions. Your mother only confirmed them.”

“Ah. I…I see.”

She laughs, reaching up and holding his face in her hands. “You are the most infuriating man I’ve ever met, and you still manage to be the one I love.”

“I have that way, I suppose.”

Tina smiles. “Please, never lose it.”

“I never want to lose any of this,” Newt says quietly. “I never want to lose you.”

And he realizes that they are surrounded by people, of course. That this is probably the absolutely _worst_ place to do this, but Theseus is watching, he knows, and he suspects that somewhere his mother and father have their eye on him, too, and if he doesn’t do this now, then when else will he –

He reaches into his pocket, finds the blue velvet box exactly where he put it, and pulls it out. “Tina.”

She looks down, then back at him. Back at the box. Back at him. “Mercy Lewis…”

“This is…not the best time, perhaps.” All the same, he finds himself kneeling in front of her, something he always told his younger self he would never do, that love was for people who had the time for it, and that he would never settle for one place or one _anything_ in his whole entire life.

But this…this is not settling. Newt hardly deserves Tina, though she would be angry with him for thinking it. His brother would chastise him for thinking so little of himself, but Newt realizes that, with her, he doesn’t quite feel that way. Not anymore.

“You…you make me feel better than I ever have in my entire life. And I would certainly be lost and possibly in jail without you.”

“ _Newt._ ”

“So. I would like to…to ask you, if you’ll allow me—” And he realizes that the people in the garden are all watching, and Theseus and his parents have crowded together at one of the French doors leading into the house, and the _bloody band_ has stopped playing. “Merlin’s beard.” He swallows. “Would you marry me, Tina Goldstein? I promise to never make a spectacle of us like this again, though where my family is involved I cannot promise—”

She reaches down, wrenching him up by the lapels of his dress robes, and _kisses_ him. Newt nearly fumbles the ring box, keeping a firm grip on it as he kisses her back, and the entire garden lets loose a might roar of delight.

“ _Those bloody Scamanders!_ ” shouts Harfang Longbottom from his wheelchair by the fountain, clapping like a maniac.

“That’s my brother!” shouts Theseus. “ _My brother_ , everyone!”

“Good show, for a Hufflepuff.”

“Isn’t that Newt’s American?”

Tina pulls back, grinning madly at him. “I love you, Newt Scamander.”

“And I, you.” He takes the ring and slides it onto her finger. “Um, that was all a yes, wasn’t it? I didn’t—”

“ _Yes_ ,” she says, laughing. “Yes, yes, _a thousand times yes._ ”

“Oh, good.” And he leans forward to kiss her again.

 

* * *

 

**_Epilogue_ **

“Newt, you can’t take Pickett to the unveiling.”

“He won’t leave me.”

Tina sighs, tipping her head toward the lapel of his coat and giving the little bowtruckle a stern look. “You behave, then.”

“He’s not a niffler, darling.” Newt kisses her. “But the warning still stands, Pickett.”

Pickett squeaks.

“ _You two, come on then!_ ” Newt’s father bellows from the kitchen. “We’re going to be late, and I absolutely _will not_ —”

Tina sighs and grabs Newt’s hand, Apparating them into the kitchen. “Apologies, papa.”

“None necessary, Tina.” Angus gives her a quick wink.

Theseus rolls his eyes. “It is _absolutely not fair_ that this family likes _Tina_ more than me. Or Newt, for that matter.”

“We like Adrian more than the both of you, too,” his mother says teasingly.

Adrian, as handsome as Theseus had promised he was, and also twice as clever, leans against the kitchen counter and smirks. “I did tell you they would.”

“You’re not allowed here anymore,” Theseus says. “Neither of you.”

“Right.” Angus grabs the floo powder. “We need to go.”

Reluctantly, Newt takes his place in the fireplace when it’s his turn and shouts, “ _St. Mungo’s_ ,” before the fire swallows him up.

He sneezes for two straight minutes after, until Tina presses her wand to his nose and he settles. “Thank you darling.”

“Come on, come on!” His father ushers them down the hall. “We need to get to our seats. Whole row’s for us, right there.” He pushes them toward their seats, and Newt settles down with Theseus on one side and Tina on the other, looking toward a large structure covered in a pure white sheet.

“Your names on one of the bricks at the bottom,” Theseus says. “For your charitable donation.”

“It wasn’t much.”

His brother shakes his head. “It mattered, Newt. It always matters.”

Tina takes his hand. Her engagement ring sparkles in the afternoon sun and she says quietly, “Did your father tell you what it looks like?”

“Did he tell _you?_ ” Tina shrugs. “Bugger.”

A tall witch steps up to the podium, pressing her wand to her throat and introducing herself as the president of St. Mungo’s.

“We are pleased to play host to the first Great War Memorial, here at St. Mungo’s. Whatever your feelings on the conflict, and whatever your thoughts on this historic day, we appreciate your being here, and the donations of those who made this possible. I would especially like to thank the Scamanders, who did not give up this fight when the Ministry backed away from this project, and were great contributors to the war effort on their own account. And in that vein, I would like to thank each and every one of you here who put service and honor above secrecy and gave your time and your souls to this conflict. Let us give the fallen a moment of silence before their names are read.”

Here, Theseus stands, and goes to the podium with a long list of names. He reads through each and every one, giving them their own moment of silence before he finally says, “Thank you, St. Mungo’s, for giving us your garden. And thank you to Henry Longbottom, who took the time and skill to create such a beautiful piece for such an important monument. Mr. Longbottom, if you would?”

Henry nods, and with one pull, the sheet flies off.

Newt hears his mother gasp.

It is a statue of four witches and wizards, their wands at the ready, looking toward the heavens. Leading them is his Aunt Rose, her face precisely as Newt remembers, expression steady and unwavering.

“Oh.” Tina squeezes his hand. “Newt, it’s—”

“Yes. It is.”

Theseus clears his throat. “We served alongside and for Muggles, because we believed it was right. We fought for this memorial, because we believed it was right. And we will continue to fight, no matter what the cause or enemy, because _we believe it is right._ I ask you, light your wands now, and remember those we lost, and honor those who served. And remember that each day we live in this dangerous and uncertain world is a gift beyond measure.”

Wands go up, their tips glowing and casting a warm, beautiful light over the statue.

Newt feels, in this instance, closer to humans than ever has in his entire life.

Tina’s hand in his, their future laid out before them – he counts himself lucky to be one.

 

* * *

 

 _out of all those kinds of people_  
_you got a face with a view_  
_iI'm just an animal looking for a home_  
_share the same space for a minute or two_

**Author's Note:**

> i just really loved the idea of newt's brother sort of coming into this awkward, post-war, bisexual identity. i read this amazing tumblr post the other day about people of all different ages and in all different places of their life figuring out that they're most definitely not straight, and as a bisexual woman who has spent years now sorting out her identity, i loved the idea of newt's incredibly confident brother discovering this about himself and being at peace with it. so that bit is really a little love letter to myself, and to anyone else who might be thinking, "aren't i too old to feel this way?"
> 
> you're not, is the answer. <3


End file.
